


Ordinary

by TempleVevHelm (orphan_account)



Category: Transformers - All Media Types, Transformers Animated (2007)
Genre: Fluff, Longarm is not shockwave and there's no creepy shit, M/M, mmyep, no decepticon shit nu-uh
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-03-30
Updated: 2017-03-30
Packaged: 2018-10-12 20:11:16
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 625
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10498608
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/TempleVevHelm
Summary: Blurr hands in a report to his favorite desk officer, Longarm.





	

Blurr leapt on top of the desk before his commanding officer could blink. In the very next moment, a harsh gust of wind buffeted them both as it suddenly filled the vacuums that Blurr had left while rushing to er— _hand in his report_. Blurr grinned wide as Longarm shot him an exasperated and fond look—after, of course, the sudden winds calmed.

“Good evening, Sir, I’ve come to hand in my report although I really see no reason why we couldn’t just leave this particular little scout-out to someone else, I mean honestly, Sir, I’m a specialized agent, surely I have better things to do than go gallivanting around every other quadrant searching for new excavating sites, why not leave that to the miners, that’s what they’re here for you know, every bot has their place in our great ‘Autobot-machine’ and speaking of the irritating mech, where _is_ Sentinel, last I hear he was chasing after some mech he’d been seeing in his academy days, which is rather humorous considering the pride the mech has, I mean there’s only so much room in that hard-wired processor of his, maybe he hold most of his actual functional thoughts in that chin of his, it’s certainly _large_ enough—“

“I’m sure,” Longarm huffed, interrupting the speedster, “That Sentinel would love to hear you say that. Now, the—“ Blurr immediately held out a datapad, “—report…” Longarm took it and squinted at the screen. Blurr bit his derma to keep from laughing when he heard Longarm’s optics spiral and magnetize the text before widening incredulously. “Is this just the overview?”

“Yes, Sir!”

“… And the rest…?”

Blurr reached out a digit and quickly began to manipulate the datapad, block after block of text scrolled down before them in solid walls. Longarm ran a servo over his suddenly pale faceplates. Blurr continued scrolling.

“Well,” Longarm began, taking the pad out of the way of Blurr’s flicking, “I’m sure it wasn’t all that important anyways, just as you said.” 

With that, he tossed the datapad onto a concerningly large pile of hazardously stacked reports—or, it _would_ be concerning if Blurr didn’t know they were all his. It was his passive aggressive way of saying “stop wasting my time or I’ll make you regret making me report anything”. He would scribble blocks upon blocks of useless text about his own opinions of the mission and its perameters, copy it, and paste it at least twenty times consecutively. There was something about large, non-indented paragraphs that terrified mechs of all standing—a weakness Blurr exploited at every turn.

“So,” the blue mech chirped, “Are we meeting for fuel or do I have to hand in another report?”

Longarm snorted and acquiesced, “Yes, yes, just keep it quiet. I wouldn’t want High Command to come asking about our interpersonal relationship, it might just get me fired.”

Blurr grinned smugly as he left. He laughed over his shoulder, “If they didn’t fire you for the mess we made of your desk last decaorn why’d they complain now?”

Longarm blushed hot and sputtered after his subordinate.

Blurr hummed and beamed his way down the hall. When he passed Cliffjumper in the main hall, the mini raised an optical ridge. “You’re in a good mood. Thought you were just sent to check Canex 1?”

Blurr winked, “Just handed in my report.”

“Ah.”

Cliff went back to scuffing his pedes on top of his work station; it wasn’t his problem if Longarm was too stubborn to send Blurr on real missions.

Blurr chuckled as he went on his way. He had one more patrol before he and Longarm’s fuel date, and if it turned out to be another slag-shoot, well, he'd just have to turn in another report.


End file.
